


A Mother’s Milk

by Thymesis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Gen, Green Milk - Freeform, Implied Baby Animal Death, Lactation, Natural History, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13435383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/pseuds/Thymesis
Summary: Luke’s unceremonious arrival on Ahch-To, from the perspective of one of its large, lactating natives.





	A Mother’s Milk

She hauls out onto the rocks to sleep and sun herself while her child cavorts in shallow tidal pools.

When her udders are full, she calls her child back home to her, and her child answers her call with his own. She knows his voice from all others, and he knows hers. He clambers out from the water and unerringly finds his way to her to nurse. Her teats are always sore, but his little, hungry mouth gives such sweet relief. And then her child nestles against her, and they find their comfort together.

There is no greater joy.

The sun, though, is fickle and likes to hide behind the clouds. Sometimes those clouds bring cold and wind and rain and lightning and thunder. She is big and strong, so none of these things scare her, but they scare the ocean and make it violent…and in its fear and anger, sometimes it steals the children away, never to return.

She tells herself that her child has not been one taken, that on this occasion the ocean will be merciful to her and to him.

Alas, the ocean is not merciful, and when a giant, winged creature tumbles down from high up in the sky, its mighty white waves swallow that creature whole too. Just like her poor, precious child.

In this case, however, the ocean decides to give something back. The giant, winged creature had a child of its own, evidently, and that child now hauls out onto the rocks. It has no wings of its own yet to fly, nor flippers to swim. It is helpless, and it is hurt, and it makes piteous noises.

It is calling out for its mother, desperate, writhing, twisting, flopping about on its belly, but it does not know that its mother is gone forever.

She knows.

It calls out again, much weaker this time, barely moving.

And because she is a mother with heavy udders who has lost her child, and this is a child who has just lost its mother, she answers its call, again and again and again, until it hears and slowly, arduously, painfully, finds it way to her.

She is big and strong, soft and warm, so she protects this poor child from the cold and the wind and the rain. Her udders are full, so she offers her teats and bids it to nurse. Its mouth feels strange on her, but not unpleasant.

No, not at all.

It begins to nurse more vigorously. Ah, sweet relief.

There there, motherless child, you are motherless no more. You are home.

 

END


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